Imperial stouts are often a tough sell with us. Sometimes, it is because in their attempt to taste like coffee they taste like grounds. Other times the desire to taste like fine chocolate hits closer to the hollow bunnies we munch with regret on weekends like this past one. Other times, we just do not like the way they look in a glass—goading and muddy. In most respects, this one succeeds where others fail. A smack of tobacco sometimes overstays its welcome, but we would like two more bottles.
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